Walking Tall

I AM SOMEBODY

As hard as it is for someone who is only 5 feet 4 inches tall to "walk tall," I feel as if I'm walking a lot taller since the department chair offered me the tenure-track job. It's hard to explain, but here goes: I feel younger, first of all, and more energetic. Instead of looking toward a future of mind-numbing adjunct work, feeling unappreciated and unrewarded, I feel at long last that (in the words of Jesse Jackson) "I AM SOMEBODY!!!" What I do and say will count. I will be treated as a professional, not as someone who can be ignored and dismissed. I will have a chance to make a difference not only with individual students, but with my entire department and the university itself. Oddly, just a few days ago, the idea of getting the job and having committee work and responsibilities--well, it scared me, and it tired me. I didn't know if I could do it. Now that the idea is a reality, suddenly I'm looking forward to committee work and responsibilities! (I grow dizzy with power just thinking of it!)

The spouse and I went out to dinner last night. Our local Olive Garden, while not exactly a five-star restaurant, is better than most. (It's run by this little fellow with a strong accent that sounds more French than Italian, and it's clear that he truly cares whether the food and the ambience are good.) We were celebrating, but we didn't tell anyone there. (Having someone sing to you is best left for the young 'uns.) Still, the highlight of the evening was my husband calling me "Professor" and adding, "No more 'Visiting' in front of it!" (Hey, hubbie, I have news for you. As an adjunct, I was a step down from Visiting Professor. Adjuncts are "Hey, YOU!")

Driving to school yesterday was a bit hazardous. It was snowing/freezing, and ice was forming on the windshield wipers. I saw one car in the ditch, with a driver sitting there waiting for someone to rescue her. I couldn't help wondering if I was really up to this drive for the next ten years, but we've talked about moving north of town, perhaps to this little bedroom/feeder community called Cedar Springs. If we lived there, I would have only 35 miles to drive (no city traffic), and Husband would have about 20, only a bit more than he has now. But those are decisions we can't make right away. With the housing market in the slump it's in, and houses on our street sitting unsold for months, I don't know how all that will play out. We'll just take it one day at a time.

Driving home, I was delighted to see sunshine and clear roadways. Most of the morning's snow had melted, even though I had stepped out of my car that morning into about 3-4 inches on the ground. It seemed almost like an omen, a good one.

I got my textbooks ordered yesterday, and while I was in the office, I chatted with the secretary, M.W. She's a sweet young woman, always happy and smiling, and I like her a lot. She whispered, "Congratulations!" From her whisper, I take it that I'm not to let anyone know just yet about the job offer. "Anyone" meaning anyone in the department, perhaps, since one of the candidates was another inside candidate. Still, even knowing that no one knew, I found myself striding through the halls with confidence, meeting people's eyes, smiling and greeting total strangers. I am somebody. Finally. Dr. S.